


Wild Space

by Caryn_B



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Science, Fluff, M/M, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caryn_B/pseuds/Caryn_B
Summary: Luke knows something is up when Han offers him control of the Falcon during a flight to the outer edges of the galaxy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008.

It had taken all Han's powers of persuasion to get Luke here at all. Now he'd achieved it he could imagine what Luke was thinking. He knew that Luke was studying the unfamiliar sector of space through the cockpit viewport, a small, bemused frown creasing his brow, and thinking that what he was seeing was just ordinary space. The usual deep, infinite black with a random scatter of stars, interspersed with amorphous, meandering plasma clouds that did little to break up the uniformity. And he'd surely be wondering why Han had insisted they travel 40,000 light years across the galaxy in order to experience the unique Arogossa Passage, only to end up in this vacant, lonely spot with no worlds in sight.

Han looked down at his flight console, gratified to see that he'd brought them to his intended destination. The first one, anyway. There was nothing to mar the unbroken emptiness of the naviscreen, and through the corner of his eye he caught Luke's scrutiny of it.

Moments later Luke turned to Han, his frown deepening on noting Han's evident amusement. "This is it?" he asked.

Han's grin widened. "Not exactly. We've got a bit further to go."

"So why did we drop out here? Or did you make a mistake in the calculations?"

"I don't make mistakes. We've pulled out here for a reason."

Suspicion flickered in Luke's eyes. "What reason?"

"Don't get so uptight. I'm gonna explain–"

"I'm not uptight. It's just that if I'd wanted to hang around in empty space I could've done that anywhere."

"This isn't just _anywhere_. This is Wild Space. We're one jump away from the Arogossa Passage."

"Which you still haven't got round to telling me about."

" 'Cause it's gotta be a surprise. If you know what to expect, it ain't gonna be the same."

"So you keep saying." Luke glanced back out of the viewport at the unchanging vista. The Falcon was chugging along on her sublight engines, making slow progress through the starscape.

Luke's frown had returned and Han saw him give a small, involuntary shiver, as though in reaction to some inner disquiet. Whatever it was, it seemed at odds with their situation. Han pushed it to the back of his mind as Luke began speaking again, his tone giving no indication that anything was bothering him.

"At this speed it'll take weeks to get anywhere, by which time I'll be asleep through boredom and end up missing it anyway."

"You know your problem?" Han asked.

"No – but I guess I'm about to find out."

"You're too impatient."

"Oh, really." Luke looked up in surprise as Han scrambled out from his seat. "Where are you going?"

Han brushed the question aside. "Anyway, no-one falls asleep through boredom in _my_ company." He moved behind the co-pilot's seat, waiting for Luke to swivel round to face him.

"Because of your renowned wit and never-ending supply of fascinating stories I suppose," Luke remarked. "None of which are ever exaggerated of course."

"I tell 'em how I remember 'em."

"Memory isn't always reliable. What are you _doing_?"

Han had taken a grip of Luke's left arm, just below the elbow, and was pulling Luke up out of the seat.

"Moving you out."

"Why?"

"So I can sit down."

Having ousted Luke from the co-pilot's position, Han installed himself in the seat, stretching his arms up and placing his hands behind his head. "You've not warmed it up very well," he complained.

"If you insist on keeping the cockpit at Hoth-like temperatures you can't expect me to be warm."

"Keeps me alert. Too much heat's bad for you." In reality, the thermal regulator was playing up and Han hadn't got round to fixing it. He wasn't about to confess.

"So where am _I_ supposed to go?" Luke asked.

Han cocked a thumb towards the pilot's seat. "In there."

"What – fly her?"

"Sure. Why not? You've done it before."

"Yes, but–"

"Just get in there."

Luke stayed where he was. "The last time I flew her you spent the whole time yelling at me to watch out for imaginary obstacles and accused me of endangering the ship by going over 200 kilometers an hour."

"We were above a landing pad. They're busy places. Lots of traffic."

"It was an _abandoned_ landing pad. We were the only ship there."

"There were trees."

"There was a tree _stump_ ," Luke qualified. " _One_ tree stump. And it was a kilometer to the west of us."

"Half a kilometer. And it was a big tree stump." Han twisted round to face Luke. "Are you gonna stand there all day arguing or are you gonna fly the damn thing?"

Luke slid into the seat, but not before throwing another dubious look at Han. After several moments of marked silence he raised his hands in frustration. "Okay – I know it's supposed to be a surprise, but are you going to give me a clue which direction it's in? Or do we just wander around hoping we end up in the right place?"

"I'll tell you in a minute if you can wait that long. You need to know a few things first."

"Here we go..." Luke sighed. "Don't tilt the ship hard to the left, or all the crates of brandy will go flying off the cargo-hold shelves. Don't go too fast in case we bump into someone else who thinks this bit of space is a fun place to spend some time. Don't use the lever on the far right 'cause that's just for pilots who _really_ know how to fly. Don't–"

"Hey, don't blame me for those crates. Chewie was the one who forgot to secure 'em," Han interrupted.

Luke tossed him a grin that verged on triumphant. "Oh? At the time I remember you blaming _me_ for that mess."

Han shrugged. "Like you said, memory ain't always reliable." He injected a new, ominous note into his voice. "Just hope I've remembered the right way into this place."

"Would it matter if you hadn't?"

"It was kinda what I was about to tell you before you flew off the handle. There's just one way in and you've gotta get it right or you're gonna be seeing your whole life flash before you. Actually, it sorta works that way anyway..."

Luke raised his eyebrows. "It's dangerous?"

"A bit."

"How much of a bit?"

Han considered his words. "Put it this way – you won't need to worry about bumping into anyone else, 'cause no-one in their right mind will be there. 'Cept us of course."

"And you're asking me to fly there, even though you don't trust me to miss a tree stump?"

"It'll be worth it."

"For which one of us?"

"Both of us. Believe me, it'll be good. You've gotta stop being so cynical."

"Right – I can't imagine where the feeling's come from."

Han smirked. "Nothin' to do with me."

"So you'll just sit there and keep quiet while I fly your ship?"

"Unless you get a move on you'll never find out."

Luke's expression was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He didn't say anything, but turned to the controls and began to make a series of small adjustments, tailoring the Falcon's settings to suit his personal preferences.

Luke was arguing for the sake of arguing. Han would've known that, even if he hadn't been able to see it in Luke's eyes. Han had thrown him a challenge, and there was little Luke liked better than going against the odds. There'd never been the slightest chance that he'd refuse to fly – Luke's confusion came from the fact that Han was relinquishing control so readily. If Luke was wondering what was going on, Han had to acknowledge that he had a valid reason. And the way Luke's eyes had searched Han's face convinced Han that Luke was looking for the underlying significance.

On the surface, it could've seemed like a simple dare. Asking Luke to prove a point by flying the heavily-modified ship, with all her idiosyncrasies, into an environment that kept the majority of the galaxy's inhabitants well away.

Or on a deeper level it could've been about trust. The first (and only) time Han had ceded the ship's controls to Luke had been over a long-standing argument. And Han hadn't been able to keep quiet, producing the perfect impression of a possessive captain who believed that nobody other than himself could handle his ship. That, coupled with an uncontrollable propensity for back-seat flying, would have left no doubt in Luke's mind that Han had been less than happy with the situation.

There was a partial truth to the observation. He _was_ possessive, and maybe he liked the sound of his own voice. The rest of it had been a performance, and lack of trust hadn't played a part in it. No way would he have let anyone loose with his ship that he didn't trust one hundred percent, irrespective of how good a friend the person was. Taking the co-pilot's seat had been easy. Substituting his seen-it-all-done-it-all image with something closer to the truth had been the real problem, and things had soon degenerated into a full-blown shouting match.

So there was a lot more going on here than a simple matter of laying down a challenge or sending an oblique message about Han's supposedly new-found confidence in Luke's flying skills. That couldn't make sense anyway, even to Luke who'd been on the receiving end of his barbed comments often enough. After all, Han had _seen_ Luke fly. He'd seen Luke fly through the Death Star trench for stars' sake. And as for trust, that had never been an issue, even from the day they'd met. Going voluntarily to an Imperial detention block with him might've been a small clue.

But clarifying what it _wasn't_ about was a heck of a lot simpler than explaining what it _was_ about. Showing Luke the full picture was part of it. Stripping away everything superfluous and counter-productive in order to demonstrate that other things were more important.

And it was to do with sharing – both the ship and a piece of himself. In many respects they were one and the same. Whether Luke had started to work any of this out wasn't clear, but Han was positive he'd begun to realize _something_ was up.

Luke tapped the tip of a finger just below the small lever on the far right of the console. The one Han had insisted he left well alone. "So what _does_ this do?"

"It's the override for the ship's climate control."

"What?"

"Y'know – say it gets too hot and you wanna cool the cockpit down using manual controls–"

"Yes, I know what climate control is. And I know what an override is," Luke retorted. "But all that fuss about not touching it..."

Luke tailed off into uncertainty and Han held his gaze. Eventually, Luke gave something that could've been a nod. Just a slight movement of his head, but it proved Han's point. Luke had definitely noticed something.

Han looked away with reluctance and concentrated on the co-pilot's instrument panel. He flipped a switch and watched several of the console lights flicker and die, one by one.

"You're turning off the auxiliary controls," Luke stated. He sounded a little strange, as though he was trying to comprehend this new, unexpected side to Han.

Han shrugged. "Don't need 'em."

"What if my panel breaks down?"

"Then I'll switch them back on."

Luke fell silent, spending the time by checking readouts of the Falcon's status. It wasn't necessary – the ship was too temperamental to rely on readouts. Han suspected the activity meant Luke was trying to organize his thoughts.

In due course Luke looked up. "What are these things I need to know?"

It was back to the business in hand, but then they'd never overtly been talking about anything else. Han raised a hand and pointed to the depths of space ahead of them.

"We need to take a short hyperspace hop – just enough to get us to the start."

Luke's eyes followed the direction of Han's finger, but there was still nothing to see.

"As soon as we drop out, we're almost in it," Han continued. "Ain't gonna be time to think. The whole sector's full of asteroids and you're gonna have to dodge 'em in the Passage. It's just a short flight to the center – you'll know when we've reached it. Then you can pull up – just let her drift on the edge. It changes all the time and that's why we can't jump straight there."

Luke nodded. "Okay." In a final act of preparing the ship to his liking, Luke activated the distance sensor. He gave the screen a cursory glance before looking away. Then he stilled, and swiveled back for a closer inspection. "The sensor array isn't right," he said.

Han leaned over and studied it. The screen was alive with activity. A mishmash of pulsing lights, oscillating frequencies and random outbursts of energy. "Looks about right to me."

Luke stared at him. "It's showing things that aren't there."

"Maybe they're hidden."

"By what?"

They both turned their attention back to the area of empty space Han had indicated. If they hadn't looked at that exact moment they might've missed the flares. They lasted for barely a second – a rapid succession of multi-colored flashes that were as bright as any sun, and which left an imprint of light hanging in space. An incandescent afterglow that intensified the total blackness behind it and showed no signs of fading.

Luke caught Han's eyes, his face betraying a myriad of emotions. "Gamma rays," he said at last, his even tone doing little to cover his obvious amazement.

"Yeah." Han understood how he felt. The galaxy contained an endless array of weird and wonderful things, but few came close to inspiring such enduring fascination as these mysterious phenomena and the circumstances that produced them. It was a fascination destined never to be sated – a gamma-ray burst often marked the presence of one of the galaxy's most enigmatic and uncharted secrets. The explosion was the final gasp of life from matter on its route to extinction, and anything venturing too far along the track of its last journey could never return to tell the tale.

"I've never seen anything like that before."

"Beats lookin' at Rogue Squadron's ugly mugs across the breakfast table," Han agreed.

"So when you said it was dangerous you weren't just talking about asteroids were you? All the activity on the sensor screen..."

"The whole area's full of anomalies. Hundreds of binaries going supernova over the last few thousand years. Now it's riddled with black holes and neutron stars." Han pointed to the sensor screen. "The Falcon's scanner can pick stuff up even from here."

Luke looked thoughtful. "It's funny, because something felt odd to me before. When I was looking out it felt... I don't know – strange. Now I'm beginning to understand why."

"It's light years away though," Han objected.

"I know – but I can _see_ it. Or rather I can't see it, and that's the whole point. It was as if I could feel something but at the same time all I could feel was nothing."

"Can you still feel it?"

"Every now and then. It's as if I _know_ something exists, but there's no evidence for it."

"A bit like your sister's sense of humor you mean?"

Luke laughed. "If you're referring to that incident with the Whiphid then Leia's got her own version of events. And it's not very flattering to you."

"Kinda figures," Han grunted.

There was a short pause before Luke spoke again. "Are we at the Galiris Boundary?"

"You've heard of it?"

"When we got bored of talking about vaporators on Tatooine, we did occasionally discuss other things. The stories I heard were that ships crossing the Boundary never came back."

"What – they got sucked up by a nasty black hole?" Han grinned. "You don't wanna believe everything you hear – there's a lotta nonsense talked by spacers who've never been outside their own systems."

"I don't believe everything I hear," Luke said. He leveled a pointed look at Han. "I haven't done for some time."

"Hey, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were tryin' to tell me something."

"And if I didn't know _you_ better, I'd think you were trying to wind me up."

"Good job we know each other so well then. What I'm tryin' to say is that stories get outta hand. The point is, black holes are only dangerous if you fly too close to them. In any case, tidal forces'd rip a ship apart before it got pulled inside."

"That's good to know."

"Listen, the Arogossa Passage is a safe zone and there'll be thousands of kilometers between us 'n them."

"You know Leia will kill us both if this goes wrong, don't you?"

"If it goes wrong we'll have saved her the bother," Han said.

"A lot of people are counting on us staying alive for the foreseeable future."

"I know – I'm one of 'em. It ain't gonna go wrong."

"You'd better be right."

"I'm always right."

Luke flung him a sardonic grin. "That's reassuring." He shifted in his seat to face the front viewport. "You can give me the co-ordinates then."

****

In the moments before they dropped out of hyperspace on the last leg of their journey, Han forgot to brace himself. It wasn't that he hadn't anticipated a bit of trouble, but just that his thoughts had turned to something even more compelling than the hazards of Wild Space beyond the Galiris Boundary.

It was all to do with Luke and the way he looked. It was hard to describe because his outward appearance pointed to little more than intense concentration. It seemed to Han that Luke's whole focus was now on the ship, ready to sense any tiny signs that might indicate problems. Han had seen it before – the way Luke could form a relationship with his surroundings, no matter what they were. It was a form of empathy, in that Luke was in tune with the harmonious interaction between ship and space and himself. In the same way he could also discern the smallest of upsets in that harmony, just as he'd tried to explain a short while back. It was also one of the reasons why their prospective journey should be a lot safer than it sounded in theory.

What had affected Han wasn't Luke's ability to focus, so much as the underlying happiness that accompanied it. Luke was doing what he loved to do. Why fly though tame space when there was the enticement of a legendary no-go zone full of the unknown? As a course of action it was reckless and self indulgent. A long way from the suffocating responsibilities and restrictions imposed on him by the Alliance and his former Jedi mentors. If Han had suggested they did this back in the confines of Alliance HQ, Luke would have refused on the grounds that it was irresponsible. In Han's opinion, Luke needed to balance the things his head told him with the things his heart told him, and he needed to do things for himself once in a while.

But to make things even more complicated, the happiness Luke was displaying had a new quality to it. It was hard to pin down, but Han decided it was a form of anticipation. Of course it could be that Luke was just keen to get where they were going, but Han was convinced it stemmed from the moment Luke had realized there was more to Han's gesture than met the eye. Added together, his two deductions produced an interesting, but hypothetical, result. Han decided to put his reasoning to the test. "Besides, we've gotta look on the positive side. If we go, we're gonna go together," he said.

For a fraction of a second Luke's hand froze over the controls, but Han had no time to reflect on the wisdom of making that remark at such a critical time. The warning countdown had reached the end, and the starlines chose that moment to vanish, leaving the Falcon lurching in the chaos of realspace.

Hauling himself back upright, Han stared out into what remained of the Arogossa Passage. It was unrecognizable. The asteroid field had all but disappeared, its place taken by a thick, soupy accumulation of space dust and pebbles, which spattered against the Falcon's viewports like giant hailstones. Han ducked as a larger fragment came careening towards them, then bit back his automatic response when Luke dipped the ship beneath it.

It was impossible to see, and almost as difficult to hear as several warning sirens kicked off in unison.

"Radiation levels?" Luke yelled above the cacophony.

Han twisted to the side, scanning down the flashing alert panel. "Climbing rapidly!"

"I'm sealing the bulkheads!" Luke called back.

"Good idea!" It meant they'd be unable to get to the escape pods, but then there was nowhere to escape to anyway.

"Can we increase the heat exchange ratio before things get critical?"

Han took a swift look at the external temperature readings and guessed what Luke wanted. He gave it an extra notch for good measure, but he wished he knew where all the excess heat was coming from.

A sustained hammering sound started up from the main body of the ship, competing with the medley of sirens. Luke kicked aside the cover for the manual ramp controls, which lay below the flight deck. "The ramp's trying to get away!" he shouted, wedging his foot beneath a lever that was determined to point itself in the opposite direction.

Han scrabbled around by the side of his seat and found a heavy metal tool box belonging to Chewie. He crawled between the seats, replacing Luke's foot with the box. The lever started up a ferocious staccato rhythm against the lid, but better that than against Luke's foot.

All but one of the shield warnings had come on, and now the final one joined in the racket. The cockpit lights dimmed as the automatic power divert channeled more resources into the deflectors. Luke reached across and switched all the sirens off, ridding them of the maddening noise. He twisted the power dials, searching for a level of stability that felt right to him.

"The shields seem okay," Luke said, his short tone mirroring the tension that had filled the cockpit. "Must be a malfunction somewhere else."

Han grimaced, inwardly cursing the Falcon's penchant for challenging them at all the wrong moments. "Let's hope it's not the engines," he muttered. "It wouldn't take much to throw us off course." And into a one-way gravity pull, he thought. It wasn't necessary to say it aloud – Luke's look of grim absorption was enough to tell Han just how much of a struggle it was, keeping the ship from wandering across the invisible borders that marked the single safe route through. He started to run through the Falcon's readings again, trying to determine just what was happening out there.

When Han and Chewbacca had flown the Passage ten years ago, the main problem had been the swirling clusters of asteroids, and he'd had to use all his concentration just to avoid hits. The Passage had been much wider and the danger of disappearing for good only substantial for someone flying wildly astray. Now everything had changed. The unexpected heat and radiation suggested they were too close to the edge of an ultra-powerful gravitational tide. And if he was correctly interpreting what he was seeing, there were two forces at play. Black holes had a well-known propensity for mutual attraction. If that was what was happening here he didn't want to think about the consequences for anything stuck between them. He was already starting to imagine he was getting a little thinner.

The fact was, the greatly-narrowed safety margin made Luke's job very much harder. On the one hand he still needed to avoid rock debris, but at the same time he had to keep the Falcon as level as possible to avoid any tilting that might throw them off-center. It was a constant battle to stay in the middle ground, away from the forces of gravity that had pulverized the asteroid belt. Han wondered just how much leeway there was. He'd anticipated a few thousand kilometers, but there was no doubt it was a lot less than that now. And at the speed they were going, a couple of steps wrong and they'd be saying their goodbyes.

Luke was flipping switches and turning dials along the length of the panel. He muttered something under his breath.

"What is it?"

"The instruments have gone crazy," Luke explained. "All the readings are wrong."

"Damn ship," Han growled.

"It's not the ship, it's magnetic disturbance. Look ahead."

The Falcon chose that moment to reel to one side, a heartbeat away from an uncontrollable spin. It was one of those occasions Han had predicted, where scenes from his life seemed to scroll before him in an instant. At the same time, something else occurred to him – that if the Falcon ended up past the point of no return, those left behind to mourn them would be dead long before they disappeared, even if took just seconds to him and Luke. Time played tricks, and he'd heard that black holes played the strangest tricks of all.

Crackles of energy against the ship dragged his mind away from those thoughts. Blue and green sparks turned the dense fog of debris surrounding them into a luminous, spiraling cloud. There was no visibility beyond it and no way of anticipating larger splinters of asteroids until they were almost upon them. The strange hue that spilled into the cockpit made everything even more disorienting.

Luke gave him a swift grin, the blue light imparting an alien patina to his hair and skin. "If you can drag yourself away from your daydreams, we could do with more power to the port-side concussion shield. The control's on your side."

Han grinned back. "Yeah." He gripped the switch, feeling the flux by gut feeling and familiarity. The readings had gone to hell, but Luke was flying the Falcon through pure intuition. Luke had put them back on target – whatever that now was.

He stole another quick look at Luke, amazed yet again by how calm he appeared when under pressure. _I'm not calm inside_ , Luke had once told him, and which had led Han to look for the signs beneath. It was rare to see any, but this time the clues were there. The faint sheen of perspiration on his brow and the way he held his shoulders showed just how much of a strain it was to control the ship. But aside from that, there was an undercurrent of vibrant energy in the way Luke's fingers flew across the controls, and the flash of fire in his eyes was pure exhilaration. Luke thrived on situations like this, pitting his wits against everything nature could throw at them, and for Han that knowledge overshadowed the very real danger they were in.

The magnetic storm was buffeting the ship from left to right, and a powerful stellar wind had picked up beneath them, lifting the ship into the top reaches of the turbulence where it bucked and protested with ominous metallic groans.

"Shut down the right stabilizer – it's over-compensating," Luke said.

Han stood up and pressed the relevant button, feeling the deck beneath his feet shuddering with vibrations that wracked the entire ship. The Falcon dived in response, but Luke had been ready for that, righting her and guiding her away from the clusters of boulders that constituted the outer edge of the dust cloud.

But all they'd succeeded in doing was substituting one sort of trouble with another sort of trouble, and the new one was even worse. Still standing, Han could feel the vertigo setting in. The sensation started in his head – a sort of falling, spinning feeling that was unlike anything else he'd ever felt. His limbs began to feel heavier, and movement was equivalent to battling a strong gale right out in the open. He reached backwards to grip the seat but something flung him sideways, pinning him against the cockpit wall. It felt like they'd entered a vortex of sorts, but one in which everything was happening in reverse.

Added to that, they were losing velocity – and fast. Han could feel the fabric of the ship straining against the opposing pull. He remembered hearing somewhere that as long as a ship could obtain lightspeed it was possible to escape, even up to the point of reaching the event horizon. The flaw in that theory was they'd soon be little more than a group of displaced atoms, so they wouldn't be in a position to make the calculations. Not to mention the fact that the ship's computer was now incapable of adding 2 plus 2, much less jumping them out of here.

"Hang on – I'm taking her to phase four," Luke warned, his voice a peculiar elongated echo of its usual self.

Han tried to reply, but he wasn't sure if the words made it out of his mouth. "That's pretty much imposs–" The thrust released him from captivity and he stumbled into the co-pilot's seat, listening to the engines' victorious roar.

After that there was no chance to speak, and no possibility of taking his eyes off the controls. It had its advantages, in that what Han couldn't see he couldn't worry over either. But neither could he see Luke. All he _could_ see were dials and levers and readings that made no sense. It was a balancing act – adjusting and fine tuning and just plain guessing. They couldn't afford so much as a second's lapse in concentration, so they were relying on each other to work together through instinct. It was a race against time, weaving their way through impossible gaps between lethal clumps of rubble. They were going far too fast for comfort, let alone safety, but the Falcon's warning signals went ignored. It wasn't as if they had a choice.

And suddenly it was over. The Falcon plunged through the final wreckage of the old asteroid belt into an oasis of calm. Han experienced several seconds of total numbness, whilst his brain struggled to comprehend the abrupt change in environment. But the fact that they'd made it through in one piece was overshadowed by the scene that lay before them. Beside him, Han heard Luke's sharp, indrawn gasp of astonishment. He wanted to turn to him, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the mesmerizing view.

When Han and Chewie had flown here before it had been remarkable. This time, the sight stole his voice completely and all he could do was look. Next to him, Luke was silent and unmoving. He was letting the ship drift, just as Han had advised.

After the deafening noise of the Arogossa Passage, the stillness was eerie. It was the eye of the storm. The center, where all the opposing gravitational forces around had reached a truce. Ahead of them was a pristine disc that stretched as far as the eye could see. Everything that had made it through the Passage was there. It had coalesced into bands, forming layer on layer of rotating debris that blazed with every conceivable color. The remains of the stars that had created the voids had found their way here, forming the burgeoning nebula that would one day allow them to regenerate.

Han found a couple of words from somewhere. "This is..."

"Insane?" Luke suggested. His voice was husky – breathless from a combination of effort, exhaustion and wonder.

"Yeah. Or we are. I told you no-one in their right mind would come here."

"So you _have_ been right at least once."

Han turned at last to face Luke, the retort dying on his lips before he could utter it. The light from the shimmering nebula had filled the cockpit with a kaleidoscopic blend of colors that ebbed and flowed across Luke, turning him into a living art-work. Trails of fiery red and orange formed swirling patterns against his skin, chased by icy blue rivulets and pale green tendrils that glittered in his hair. Han could see the nebula reflected in Luke's eyes, highlighting the elation that had taken hold of Luke. It had required some extraordinary flying skills to get them here and Han wanted to say something. At the very least he had to explain how so much had changed in so short a space of time.

"The Passage... if I'd known how dangerous it was gonna be I'd've..."

"What? Flown it yourself?"

Han shook his head. "No. I'd never have come here."

"Then I would've missed this," Luke argued. "How many people get to see a new galaxy in the making?" He wiped the back of his hand across his eyelids, conscious of the trickles of sweat that had run down from his brow. His face was flushed with heat and exertion, the iridescent light catching a trace of dampness at his throat.

Han forced himself to look away, gazing out across the undulating nebula. "It was a big risk to take. There's no-one around to replace you. The Alliance–"

Luke interrupted him. "Sometimes we need to take risks to prove we're alive. We have to take our chances while we can." He hesitated before speaking again. "You said something to me. About us going together..."

"What about it?"

"Did you mean it?"

"Sure."

"But did you _really_ mean it?"

Han watched as a series of gas plumes spurted from the center of the nebula, breaking up into a thousand shards of fractured light that dissipated in the blackness beyond. Luke wasn't asking if Han had meant the words literally, because of course he had. They'd come on this venture together and they'd have faced the outcome together, whichever way it had gone. Luke wanted the full implications of Han's use of the word together. And he wanted the real explanation for this trip, and to know if Han's act of sharing was a declaration of something more. The answer was easy for Han – he'd just been waiting for a chance to give it.

"Yeah, I really meant it," he said. He looked back at Luke, watching the smile already in Luke's eyes spread to his lips.

"You know," Luke said, "you could've found an easier way to tell me."

Han grinned. "Maybe. But at least I got your attention."

Luke gave a soft laugh. "Did you think it was going to be difficult?"

"Which – getting your attention or flying through the Passage?"

"Getting my attention."

"I kinda thought the Passage bit would be easier."

Luke eased himself up from the pilot's seat, stretching his limbs and rubbing the still-tense muscles of his left shoulder. He held a palm out towards the front viewport, watching the changing colors ripple across it. "It's almost like you can reach out and touch it," he said.

"You'd think we were right on top of it, but it's still hundreds of kilometers away," Han agreed. He watched the colors lapping against the ship like the incoming tide of an ocean, and wondered where they went from here.

Luke turned round, framed by an aura of light. "You could've had my attention anytime."

"Not in the way I meant. You wouldn't've believed me."

Luke shook his head. "You're wrong. You see, I already know about the things that matter – the trust and support and friendship. You've always stuck by me, right from the start. You've looked out for me, rescued me, listened to me and believed in me. I don't need things to be different to understand that." He paused for a moment as though searching for the right words. "I would've listened to whatever you wanted to say to me – anytime or anywhere."

For the second time in the space of ten minutes, Han couldn't find his voice. "So I guess I could've just bought you a drink in the Alliance bar," he managed at last.

Luke moved up to him and touched his shoulder. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything. It's beautiful, and flying here felt like... living."

"Felt a bit like dying too," Han pointed out.

"It had its moments." Luke sat down on the edge of the pilot's seat, facing Han. "Are we okay just drifting?"

"Sure – we're in orbit around the nebula. We can stay as long as you want."

"Good. After what it took to get here it'd be a shame to rush away."

Han made a face at the thought of returning. "We're gonna need to run some checks before we do anything else – see what kinda damage we've ended up with."

"Can we make the jump from here? I think we'd be pushing our luck to go back the way we came."

Han glanced at the flight panel. "The readings are back to normal so yeah, we can jump from here. But don't underrate yourself," he added. "You could do that trip blindfolded." He let his grin develop slowly. "Y'know, you're almost as good as me."

"Is that so?" Luke said, grinning back.

"Yeah, with a bit more practice..." Han tailed off. "What are you doing?"

"Work it out."

Han might've tried, but the short seconds between Luke wrapping an arm around Han's neck, and Luke kissing him, didn't leave much time for thought.

In some ways, it was a bit like being back in the vortex. He felt the return of the vertigo, together with the impression that he was losing control of his limbs. But there were also some notable variations. Back in the Arogossa Passage the sensations had centered on his head. Now, they focused on somewhere quite different.

Luke broke the kiss but pulled back only far enough to allow him to speak. "I'm glad you brought me here."

" _You_ brought _me_ ," Han noted.

"You know what I mean."

"Uh-huh." Replying wasn't easy owing to the way Luke was planting kisses all over his mouth. He struggled to produce a question, which in hindsight wasn't the most logical of things to have asked. "What d'you wanna do now?"

"Well we do need to check the Falcon for damage," Luke reminded him.

"Right..."

"But seeing as you said she can stay in orbit indefinitely..." Luke slipped the tips of his fingers beneath the collar of Han's shirt.

"Yeah..."

"...then there's no hurry to do the repairs."

"No hurry at all," Han murmured.

Luke leaned in further, his lips brushing against Han's jaw. "Then let's leave her to drift. For as long as we want."

~end~


End file.
